An Emerald Fate
by Prewritesuccession
Summary: Juno is a hospital child. However, among the other, younger children, she is the only one who wears green; and it isn't a coincidence. Then she meets Yukimura Seiichi, also dressed in green hospital garb. Can he help her overcome a tragic accident memory that happened just a year before to another boy in green dress? Told first person from Juno's point of view.
1. Seeing Color

**Yeah, yeah, so I started ANOTHER story. But, if it counts, I finished one already, so...it's okay! (Excuses, excuses...a-HEM) So I've had this new obsession with Yukimura Seiichi and see myself writing more and more stories about him...so yeah. Please comment; I'd love to hear from all of you and check out my other stuff! **

**Also, this is the FIRST story I've ever written from the point of view of a male (Second chapter will be in Yukimura's point of view) so please tell me what I can do to improve! Don't hold back when you criticize! Make it sting! (Okay, not really)**

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**And, just as a question, who else is a little annoyed that Fanifiction doesn't have indenting? I don't know why that bugs me so much. Just does.**

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"Jun-chan, Jun-chan, Jun-chan, Jun-chan!"

Five pairs of tiny hands grabbed me, pulling on the hem of my dress and wrapping skinny arms around my waist.

"Jun-chan, Jun-chan, Jun-chan!" I sighed and put down my book. We were sitting near the windows of the hospital offices, enjoying the last few rays of setting sun. Or at least, _I _was.

_"Jun-chan, Jun-chan, Jun-chan!"_ Turning around, I put a finger to my lips and quickly herded them out into the hallway. Running a hand through my long hair, I sighed. _How many times had I told these little creatures to be quiet? And how had they found me when I was hiding so I could actually get a snippet of privacy? _I cracked a dry smile.

_No matter how hard I try, they _always_ find me. _

Bending over to their height, I considered who I would be most trustworthy to get information from. Leaning towards one of the children, I decided with a little girl with dark pig-tails dressed in a pink hospital dress. "Aiko," I started, giving her my _please-don't-lie-or-else-I'll-be-very-upset _look. "Please tell me what's going on and why everyone is here, being loud and disrupting all the Aunties and Uncles working hard?"

Aiko was a small; seven but very tiny. She looked at me with those big brown eyes that always flooded with tears whenever someone said the tiniest thing that upset her. Even now, I saw Aiko's eyes start to water. She was so sensitive, but Aiko was the most honest, sweetest thing.

"Oh no, no," I told her gently, taking her petite hands in my own. "I'm not mad. I just want to know why." Aiko sniffled.

"W-we wanted you to come meet Brother." Aiko wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her dress. _Brother? _I thought quietly and smiled. _He was probably another new child patient. _It was just like the kids to find out such things before me. They sneaked around the place and spread information like little old ladies gossiping. I almost laughed. The first thing I had done when I first arrived here five years ago was talk to the hospital children. _Kids know the most about everything if they pay attention and if you're good at getting them to talk. Few people look to kids to get information, but they should._

"Let's _gooooooooooo_, Jun-chan," wailed little Ren, bringing me back to reality. She tugged on my sleeve. Her long, silky red hair clashed brightly against the orange shirt and pants she had on.

"Yeah!" Isao shouted at me, pulling a strand of Ren's hair. She slapped his fingers away before giving him a nasty look. Then, Ren smiled and turned to me, taking my sleeve and starting to run.

_"Hurry up!" _

I let the children pull me through the hospital corridors. They led me without hesitation, waving to a few familiar nurses and doctors. The adults always waved back. We were all the hospital's kids, and in a way, we were all one family.

I smiled as they gently but firmly rushed me up the stairs and through a few doorways. Down the corridor, a door stood open. Katashi, Mika, and Isao screeched in their small, high voices and started to sprint ahead of us.

"Jun-chan! Hurry!" I let loose a laugh. Aiko and Ren pulled urgently at my hands. _Who was this stranger who had all the kids working together? _I smiled as they impatiently pulled me along, glancing back at the door every few feet.

Aiko wailed. "Jun-chan! Hurry _up_!" I smiled as she gave up on me and ran ahead with the others. Ren looked at me and smiled her toothy grin. She joined Aiko and started yelling at me with the others.

"Jun-chan, you're so slow!"

"I thought you said running was your specialty!"

"Come on and meet Brother! Hurry!" I laughed and started to jog towards them.

"How can I catch up when you're all so fast?" I told them as they giggled and grabbed my hands. We stopped in front of the open door. The kids flooded around me, laughing and throwing themselves over 'Brother,' hugging his arms and sitting at his feet. He was in hospital garb like the other kids, but his clothes were green. My eyes widened. _I hadn't seen green sheets since..._

Aiko jumped up and pulled me down, sitting me down at the edge of the bed next to Brother and Ren who bounced on the sheets, giggling and clutching his arm. "This is Brother," she said with a big smile at me. Turning to him, Aiko took my hand and put it into his. "Brother, this is Jun-chan." He smiled. Brother's soft, purple eyes left me transfixed. We were probably close to the same age; four-teen.

"I'm Yukimura," he said, shaking my hand gently. "Jun-chan," he added. Yukimura said my name softly like he was testing it out. I shivered and nodded. Yup. That was my name. People called me Jun-chan several times every day, but I never shiver. _I hadn't shivered like that since..._

_ He held my hand. Our green sleeves touched, our legs swinging lazily through the railing. There were a lot of cars down there today and a light breeze swept lightly over us, ruffling my hair. An ambulance siren blared six stories down. We leaned forward, peering through the bars and watch a man in bloody clothes be wheeled out, crew hastily clearing the pathway so the gurney can make it to the surgery room in time..._

I struggled to bring myself back to Yukimura. "My real name's Juno," I heard myself say. I shook myself back into reality and smiled at his puzzled expression. "My mother's Italian and took the name of a Roman goddess." I suddenly flushed at the extravagance of my name. _Did he think I was so self-absorbed that I compare myself to a goddess? I should've left it at Jun. _Just when I thought I would die of embarrassment, Aiko did something unexpected. She took my hand and put it on Yukimura's.

"Jun-chan and Brother are almost the same age and are both wearing green. It's a fairy-tale fate!" Aiko squealed. Ren and the others giggled. Only little Isao made a face. He was six and still believed in things like 'cooties' and that 'girls were gross.' My face flushed not in embarrassment but anger. I tried not to act upset as I pulled my hand away. I didn't look up at Yukimura.

_They couldn't understand. _

Sure, we were the same age. Sure, we both wore green hospital garb. But that color wasn't fate telling us to come together. That was fate playing a mean joke on me, him, and...someone else from a long time ago. In a year, green had gone from my favorite color to the one hue that I resented even more than black. Fate could be cruel. _So, so cruel._

I willed myself to smile for Aiko and the kids. I gave a fake laugh. "That's sweet." Looking at Yukimura, I gave him what I hoped was an apologetic smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go. It was nice to meet you." I turned away from him, the kids, and the green. Strolling out of the corridor, I made sure they weren't following me. Starting to jogged, I flew down a flight of stair, and started to sprint. I finally stopped at a wooden door on the first story. Pushing the door open, I stumbled into the room, locked the door, and pulled the curtains firmly closed. No one, not even common passerby, could see me like this.

_They couldn't understand. _

I felt warm, wet tears trickle down my face. Lifting my head and looking up at the ceiling, I stared in quiet hatred of the tiny crinkles of plaster coated sloppily with paint. Green paint. Collapsing onto the bed, through my sobs, I heard ambulance sirens echo across the parking lot below. It wasn't an unfamiliar sound. I wiped my eyes and forced myself to stop crying over something gone. Sighing and standing up, I peered through the crack in the curtains and looked down below. Crew wheeled out a little girl, unconscious, with an oxygen mask covering her small nose and mouth. Her clothes were already gone and she was dressed in hospital garb in preparation for her emergency surgery. Another hospital child for our family. I felt myself fall in shock into the cushioned chair next to my desk. Her thin dress was drowned in green. Her tiny chest rose and fell quickly like a hummingbird heart. But even if she was going to live through this one surgery, they had put her in green, which meant that there was still much more pain to come.

Now I understood why people always said that life wasn't fair. But compared to life, fate was just plain cruel.


	2. Happenings

Some people say I'm insane when I tell them that green is the darkest, most evil hue in the whole rainbow.

"_Because,_" I remember telling Aiko that one day in winter last year. "Green's the color that makes me sad." She nodded slowly, still even smaller than she is now. I didn't want to scare her. Gentle, kind Jun-chan would never do that.

A knock on my room door ripped me out of my thoughts. I hastily stood and fixed my pinned-up hair. "Who is it?" I called. _Was it one of the kids? Look together. Look gentle. Like the Jun-chan they all know and love. She's fine. She's fine. She's fine._

"Juno?" It was a boy's voice, too deep to be Isao or Katashi's voice. I quickly fixed my dress and unlatched the door. In front of me was Yukimura, holding the hand of Katashi busy sucking his thumb. I bent down and took Katashi's tiny hand out of his mouth. He wiped it on the orange hospital shirt he wore.

"The kids were worried," Yukimura said, taking my hand and helping me up. Nodding, I didn't meet his eyes and pretended to be keeping an eye on Katashi who was now playing on the floor with the little yellow toy truck he brought everywhere. "Juno-chan," I didn't listen. Crawling down with Katashi again, I smoothed his hair and sat on my knees in front of him.

"Where's Auntie Karin?" I asked him. Auntie Karin was Katashi's nurse who attended to him whenever Katashi left his room wing. She was hired by his parents to monitor his illness and make sure nothing got worse. Ren had one too.

"Getting food," he told me, not lifting his gaze from his little toy. "I said I was coming here, and she said it was okay because Jun-chan knows how to take care of me." He flashed me a big smile before driving his yellow car across my knees, over the wrinkles of the dress.

Yukimura sat down too and I felt him watch me. But I just smiled at Katashi as he drove his little truck over the fields of green like they were hills. However, this moment didn't last. Nurse Karin soon came, her white shoes clicking on the tiles.

"Katashi," she called, spotting us playing outside my door. Nurse Karin was a younger nurse, with her hat sitting on a bed of short brown locks. "Katashi, I have your mid-morning snacks. Today we have crackers, too." He jumped to his feet. Katashi loved crackers but it was a rare treat. He and Ren were on very precise diets. They both had heart trouble. They both wore orange.

"Bye, Jun-chan, Brother!" Katashi ran down the corridors to his room to enjoy his snack. Now I was left here, alone, with Yukimura. This was the last thing that I wanted. No distractions. Just me and him, discussing my strange behavior from yesterday. He'd be bound to ask questions. So it would be me, him, and Kirihara. Someone else in green who had left me. But that was four years ago. He was long gone, and I didn't need someone else trying to tell me to let it go.

Sweeping my eyes to the floor, I spotted my ticket out. Katashi's little toy truck. Leaning over, I picked it up and spun the plastic tires wire my finger.

"I'll get this to Katashi. He hates not having it." As I stood to leave, Yukimura grabbed my wrist. I looked at him in shock and horror. His grip was gentle though; I could easily shake his hand off. But for a strange instant, I didn't _want _to. Something about the way he watched me, purple eyes passive yet intense at the same time. _Was it how much he reminded me of Kirihara from so many years before? Or how he was so different?_

Whatever the reason, I found myself feeling empty and even more confused than I had been before. _Where was Kirihara? Why did I feel so bad about things that happened so long ago? _I shivered in the thin dress and looked down at the green.

_What's happening?_ I wondered desperately. _What's so wrong? _

Tears began to fall and I looked around for a way to escape. But it was like Yukimura was still holding my wrist, not letting me free. Legs trembling, I took a small step forward.

_What's happening? _

I didn't have a vestibular problem; my diagnostic disease was leukemia. Nonetheless, I felt my knees shake and buckle. Yukimura swiftly came up and caught my arms. I fell into him, landing on my knees and started sobbing in the hospital corridor.

_What's happening? _

I felt Yukimura take my hands and lead me into my room, sitting me down on the bed. I looked up at the green on the ceiling with...something I just couldn't place. Was it despair? Anger? Resentment? If so, at whom? Yukimura, who reminded me of the other green-garbed boy who I'd found a lifetime ago? Kirihara, who'd take me to the roof and we'd spend the day up there, our green clothes rippling in the wind? The doctors, who told me that I was now living on borrowed time?

Placing my hands on my face, my shoulders still shook, but no more tears fell.

_What's happening to me? _

Physically, I was being attacked by myself. Emotionally, I wasn't doing so hot either. The doctors had explained all this cancer stuff to me the first day: about white blood cells and stem cells and a bunch of other words they tried to teach a nine-year-old me to learn and say like it was a game. A fateful, awful, emerald game.

I felt an arm touch my shoulder. I felt another hold my hand. And I felt yet another hugging my arm. I gave a start. Yukimura didn't have three hands. Opening my fingers, I saw the kids, peering at me through my hands and clinging to my clothes. Smiling, I told myself not to start bawling again. Isao plucked his thumb out of his mouth and held out his hand. I was confused until Yukimura plucked the yellow toy from my lap, handing it to a now-complete Isao.

Doctor Kazumi was at the doorstep, a clip-board in her slender hand. Her pale face was pressed with lines. Worry lines. Standing up, the kids took their arms off me and watched her with wide-eyes. A visit from Doctor Kazumi was rare. She was _my _doctor, specializing in children's chronic diseases, especially cancers. Like mine.

"_Juno..._"

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From the first word, she didn't even have to say more. The way she talked wasn't bright, not cheerful full of fake hope. That was one of the reasons I admired her. From the first word, I listened hard and tried not to listen at the same time. From the first word, I covered Ren's ears to the noise.

After, I lay alone on my bed and tried to sort out my mind.

_Chemotherapy..._

Was I upset? No. Was I angry? No. This was no one's fault. It wasn't mine either. I didn't smoke. I had a good diet. I was a good girl.

Was I depressed? No. Was I sad? Hard to say. Had Kirihara felt like this? So unsure and scared? I saw his bright green eyes, full of passion.

"_I'm not scared, Jun-chan. I'll go and I'll live and I'll become the best at tennis in all of Japan." He spanned his arms out to emphasize his point. I laughed with tears in my eyes and hugged him. "You just wait, Jun-chan. After I'm done, I'll come back to this hospital and wait until they say you're ready. Then, we can get better together," he whispered into my hair. "You just wait." _

_Kirihara stepped into the car where his parents were already waiting. He was going to a bigger hospital to get this surgery done. _

_Chemotherapy..._

_I waved until the car was gone and stayed outside much longer after that. He'll come back. He'll come back and we can get better together. _

No, he hadn't felt the way I did. Kirihara had been so sure, so ready. After a month he had written me a letter about how the surgery had gone, how his cancer was cured and how he was going to be the best at tennis and that he'd come back and we could wait until my own surgery. I had been ecstatic, finding new hope.

After a week, there was no more mail. After a month, I had created a nervous habit of constantly asking the office lady if I had any mail. After two more months, I had written back asking when he was coming back.

After twelve months, Kirihara still hadn't come. I buried my love painful feeling and set off caring for the younger children to heal my broken heart. It felt right to care for others when you just can't seem to help yourself.

But I just couldn't seem to stop counting the hours, and wonder if Kirihara ever thought of me, too.

Two years gone and still nothing.

_Did it even matter anymore about him? _I remember asking myself. _He's gone. It's alright; you can make it through this...by yourself. _But that thought just made my buried affections twinge with pain, miles down under in my patched-up spirit.

_Could it be three years already?_ I had reflected on that chilly day in January. It was my birthday.

_Maybe it was alright._ Maybe he really _did _make it in tennis and was so busy and famous that he didn't have time for the old hospital friend that he used to like. But no matter how hard I pictured him, successful and happy, I still couldn't bury the fact: he had forgotten me.

Four years later; four years after he left and never came back, I was being cured. The therapists had finally decided that my current condition would prove most effective with the chemotherapy. _Could I be sure like Kirihara had been? _

But I would be fine. I would soon be alright. I found myself ready. I found myself _brave_.

I also found that it didn't hurt thinking of him and his green anymore.


	3. Leukemia Princess

The next day, a surprising announcement from Doctor Kazumi brought an unfamiliar buzz of excitement into our daily regimen. We were all asked to gather in the children's visiting room at the converging point of our rooms. A large cardboard box sat in one of the chairs. The kids and I occupied the remaining chairs, Aiko and Isao deciding to sit on Yukimura and my laps instead of on the floor.

"Well, everyone," Doctor Kazumi had said, an alien emotion shown glinting in her eye; happiness. "Because of Juno's start of her chemotherapy," she gestured at me with a gloved hand, "we have gained permission from all of your parents and legal guardians." Doctor smiled which made me feel both afraid and excited. "For the first time," she started again, "all you kids are going out!"

There was silence.

And more silence.

Then even more.

All I could hear were my thoughts that matched everyone else's around me.

_Out? We were going out? _I didn't know what to do. Scream? Laugh? Cry?

_After five years, we were going _out_? _

It felt amazing; no, exhilarating. Time for wind and grass and sky and all the things we can't experience just by stepping next to our window and peering out.

_We were going outside? We could finally step back into life? _

The first one to talk was Isao. "What about Auntie Karin? Doesn't she have to come too?" Isao was right. Nurse Karin was in charge of Isao; his charts, his blood tests, his everything to make sure nothing bad escalated.

Doctor Kazumi smiled again. "Of course, Auntie Karin and Auntie Chie are coming," she said, talking about Isao and Ren's nurses who always meticulously watched and tracked their heart issues. "In here," she began, putting a hand on the large box, "are donated clothes that you will wear outside. Details will be described in about an hour. Everyone meet back in here!" With that, she left us alone with our silence, the clothes, and our unspoken excitement. When the door swung shut, everyone except for me and Yukimura started chatting.

"I wonder where we're going."

"I want to see a puppy!"

"I hope my sister can come see us too!"

I whispered my request. "I wish it would rain." I had said it quietly so the kids couldn't hear, but they did anyway.

"Why don't you want it sunny, Jun-chan?" Katashi asked, gently wheeling his little car over my knee. "Don't you want to come?" I shifted Aiko's weight on my lap and gently smiled, ruffling Katashi's light brown hair.

"Of course I love the sunshine," I told him dreamily. "But it's been a long time since I've felt the rain."

Ren, Isao, Aiko, and Katashi stared at me wide-eyed.

"You want to remember rain?" Isao whispered from on top of Yukimura's lap, thumb still hanging in his mouth. I smiled sadly at him and nodded. I had spent the last years feeling the warmth and cold of the weather through the glass of my room window but never once did I feel the rain.

I lightly set Aiko down and stood up, opening the lid of the box of donated clothes. One by one, the kids lined up for clothes. I gave Aiko a light blue skirt and white blouse. For Ren, I paired a bright red t-shirt that matched her hair and a dark pair of shorts. I let Yukimura pick out a blue shirt for Katashi with a pair of ill-fitting athletic shorts (the only thing that really fit) and he brought out a small pair of overalls with a yellow shirt for Isao.

I tried to pick colors different from their hospital clothes: Aiko's pink to blue, Ren's red for orange. Yukimura seemed to have the same idea, because Katashi's red clothes were replaced with blue and Isao's orange was substituted with yellow.

Sending the kids off to change, Yukimura and I dug around for anything that would fit. It felt strange looking through 'normal' clothes and their sizes; I had lost a lot of weight and the hospital dress didn't have a size tag. I ended up taking out all of the girl clothes and holding it up but everything was either too bulky or too small. Finally I found a nice dress with a cinched waist and small flare at the ends. The only problem was that it was green.

I wondered whether or not to wear it. Green meant nothing to me emotionally anymore; it didn't make me sad, it didn't make me angry. But wearing it voluntarily made me feel like I was desecrating a grave. It was like dishonoring a memory. So I folded the dress and put it aside. Yukimura stood to dress then looked at me and put down his own clothes already chosen. He then started to dig again around deeper into the box and I smiled then started looking too. Eventually he held up a white dress with a long, wispy-fabricated skirt and cotton, quarter-sleeved top.

Giving him my most thankful smile (for more than just finding the clothing article), I put the other green dress back into the box and we both left to change. I was liking Yukimura more and more every day, though in a different way though from Kirihara. Yukimura was peace. Kirihara was adventure.

I walked into my room, pulled the curtains, and shut the door, then slipped out of the green hospital dress. It felt strange; like I was walking around bare. With my green clothes, I was marked as someone: a hospital child in need of surgery and physical therapy. That's what the green meant; a mark in the color-code system of this very organized hospital. The nurses said every color had psychological effects on you. Red was for intensity. Yellow led you to frustration. Purple could represent spirituality or royalty. Green is tranquility.

However, despite my naked feeling, I also felt a small shiver of excitement as I switched the linen hospital clothes with my new batiste-fabric dress. Standing in front of the closet mirror, I smiled and twirled around, the manila skirt flaring unlike the non-pleated hospital dress I used to wear. The new dress fit nicely, fabric comfortably bunching around my slim waist and wispy skirt resting just above my knee. I folded my old dress and slipped into my pair of white hospital slippers.

Then, smiling, I took out the silver pin that held up my hair into a messy bun, letting dark purple curls find their way into my face and down my back. I brushed pieces back then clipped the hair into place back above my ear.

Everything was changing.

_So shouldn't I change too?_

Meeting everyone else outside in the waiting room, it almost felt like we weren't all in a hospital anymore. We were all dressed like...regular kids. However, I could tell how uncomfortable everyone was. Aiko kept pulling on the waist-band of her skirt, Ren picked at the collar of her shirt, Katashi kept trying to lift his giant shorts, and Isao fumbled with the straps of his overalls.

Being the only two to have a seemingly decent-fitting wardrobe, Yukimura and I bent down to help the little ones. Yukimura stretched out the neck of Ren's shirt and tightened Isao's overall straps while I tucked the tail of Aiko's blouse into her skirt and safety-pinned Katashi's waist-band. Finally, _finally_, it seemed we were ready. As we waited for Doctor Kazumi, everyone couldn't help but stare out the window or fumble with their clothes.

After a little while, Ren, being only four, crawled up on my lap and touched my hair and the sleeve of my dress.

"You look like a princess," she whispered, snuggling into my lap. I laughed gently and stroked her red hair.

"I'm the leukemia princess, hmm?" Ren giggled and pointed at Yukimura, a waiting room novel balanced on his knee.

She whispered. "Is he your Guillain–Barré prince?" I blinked at her in surprise at a few different things. Ren had memorized the name of his disease? Yukimura had Landry's Paralysis? _My prince?_ I let Ren crawl off and get her own seat to join Aiko peering out the window at passing cars. Barely hesitating, I stood and took the seat next to Yukimura. "Hey," I whispered. Yukimura looked up from the book and put it aside. His violet eyes smiled. "Ren, she told me you have Guillain–Barré?" I wasn't sure how I was supposed to go with this. I wasn't even sure what I was trying to ask. But Yukimura just nodded. When I first arrived, before meeting Kirihara or the kids, I had spent my days flipping through old medical records and surgical books in my boredom. I had flipped through each page with disgust and morbid interest, sometimes sitting with one of the nurses who would join me during breaks out of _oh, that little girl has no friends _pity. I had pointed at various pictures and paragraphs, saying, "Can that _really _happen?" or "How come they didn't just cut it off?" Unbeknownst to me, a single nurse never returned twice to visit _the little who asks the most gruesome questions. _Fact of the matter is that I learned a lot about diseases, surgeries, and strange cases of diseases and surgeries. I counted it amazing that doctors, nurses, and surgeons could do so much and hardly break a sweat. I counted it sad that I faint whenever I watched people get shots.

But I had read up on Guillain–Barré, also known as Landry's Paralysis which effects a person's muscle movements. I now scrutinized Yukimura's every movement, looking for any signs of weakness or fatigue. So far, nothing. But perhaps it needed more time to develop.

Yukimura smiled at the worried look on my face. "Come, we're going out to have fun today," he said. Then Yukimura laughed lightly and touched my arm. "Don't worry about me! Worry about yourself and your own surgery." Giving a weak smile, I nodded. Yukimura was right. He could worry about himself.

"Besides," he lowered his voice, "today, there are some people I invited for you all to meet." I blinked at him but Yukimura picked up the book again, signifying the end of the conversation. I puffed a breath of annoyance but my mind was fuller of curiosity than irritation.

_We were meeting people? Had Yukimura arranged this whole thing just so we could meet these strangers he talked about? _

Before I could bug him for more answers, Doctor Kazumi came in.

"Good, you're all here," she said. Doctor was with Auntie Karin and Auntie Chie. All of them were out of their white nurse's and doctor's garb and the women looked considerably younger.

"Doctor Kazumi," Aiko said, raising her hand like she was in class. "Will you be coming, too?" Doctor nodded, another rare smile on her face.

"Well, where are we going?" I asked. Doctor Kazumi gave me a mischievous look that said _well, you'll find out soon enough, dear. _So I let it be and we all went down and crowded into one large van with six kids, a picnic basket, and a whole bunch of emergency medical equipment.

My curiosity burned hotter than it should have if I had known what surprise would have been coming for me next.


	4. Past in the Present

The total ride was long; over an hour, but most of the time was spent driving in slow loops around town and sight-seeing like tourists. We had all once lived here. But now this alien world that was outside was as scary and amazing as the first time we ever saw it. It felt familiar.

Yet I felt so lost.

"Look! That's where my Daddy works!"

"I had my birthday party over there."

"My sister liked to take me over there to eat ice cream after school!"

Cries from the kids filled the air about the familiar places or things from their past life. It was an adventure to them: everything they saw and even the place where we were going.

"That was my old school!"

"Yeah, mine too!"

We circled around an elementary school for Katashi and Ren before driving off again.

"Ooh, that's where I played piano."

"That looks like my old neighbor!"

And so on and so on.

I watched with only mild interest at the passing buildings, people, and stores. In the last five years, it seemed that nothing had changed. However, I still sat a little straighter whenever we passed familiar places: the little park where I used to swing and climb trees, Kawamura Sushi where I imagined my old friend Taka-san still worked with his Dad.

We even drove past my mother's work building and I swore I caught sight of a familiar woman in a crisp, navy suit, but before I could take a closer look, she was gone. Slumping back down into the seat, I decided I didn't want to see her anyway. It had been months since she and Dad had last visited. I wasn't feeling too sentimental.

It had been on Christmas when Mom, Dad, and month-year-old Akane had come, laden with gifts and foil-wrapped, very healthy, very flavorless, low-cholesterol, and unsalted dishes. We ate in silence after I gave up on my lame attempts at conversation. I remember thinking, _did I change? Is that why they won't even talk to me anymore?_

Abruptly standing, Mom brushed off her navy suit she wore to work (she went to work on Christmas?) and started spooning unfinished food onto one plate. Balling up the extra foil with a crinkle, she threw it into the trash can sitting unused in the corner of my room. I set aside my half-finished plastic plate of chicken.

"You're leaving?" I knew how desperate I sounded. I knew exactly how much hurt was in my voice. But Mom just smiled and patted my cheek with a perfectly manicured hand and made a signal she thought I didn't see at my Dad behind her back.

"Oh," Dad said, standing and putting Akane back into her carrier. "Sorry, Junie, we have stuff tonight." He had used the old nick-name I had once loved and giggled at. Mom grabbed her purse and the plates before I could say goodbye. Picking up his jacket and buckling Akane in, Dad mouthed _sorry _none too apologetically and high-tailed it out of there like I was contagious.

Did it hurt? Sure. But it wasn't as bad as the first time they did it. It was a sad Christmas, but I had gotten used to it. I knew what they did after leaving me alone: deliver bits of leftover cardboard dinner to random patients with various _God bless_es and sympathetic smiles. With her lovely features, handsome husband and perfect baby, everyone must've thought they were kind strangers doing a good deed. But after all the food was gone, they would go downstairs to the cafeteria for leftover ham and the sweet desserts Mom never let me eat.

I remember watching passively through the cold glass of my window. Mom's red scarf blew wildly in the wind as she shielded her eyes with her purse, balancing Akane's carrier on her hip. Dad carried the pile of plates and around his wrist were several bags full of those white Styrofoam containers you get in the cafeteria for leftovers. He fumbled with his keys and I wished he'd suddenly slip on the ice. I wished the disgusting plates would fall and disappear into the darkness of the parking lot. I wished every one of those platters would shatter.

A sudden stop jolted me out of my dark memory.

"Sorry, everyone," Doctor Kazumi called from the driver's seat, peering back into the rear-view mirror. I straightened out my seat-belt as she backed up then carefully parked the car neatly in between the yellow lines. There was a uniform distance between the sides and the parking space. That was just like Doctor Kazumi. Whether in the hospital or just parking cars, everything was neat and organized.

Auntie Karin and Chie unbuckled themselves then came and helped the kids get out of the car-seats or seatbelts. Yukimura and I skirted around them (us sitting in the back) and I stretched my cramped limbs after stepping out of the crowded van. Turning in a circle, I finally got into my bearings and frowned.

"Where are we?" I puzzled aloud. To my surprise and annoyance, Yukimura smiled.

"I wanted you to see my tennis teammates," he explained. Nodding, I turned around again. The place was a school, most likely a private academy. On the wall was a silver name plate that read **Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku**. Shrugging, I decided it would be fun to see more people my age. The most fourteen-year-olds I had recently seen in one place was through my window and across the street at some special sale. But I didn't think that really counted.

As everyone was unloaded, Isao pulled on my skirt with wide-eyes.

"Jun-chan, who are we meeting?" I thought about it for a second and smiled.

"Brother's friends." Isao left with worried eyes and I almost laughed. He thought Yukimura's friends were those kinds of awful, rude types. Suddenly, I turned serious and swept a protective eye over the kids. His friends had better be nice.

Soon enough, a group of guys appeared around the school with tennis bags swung over their shoulders, talking and laughing. They stopped when they spotted us. One in the front gasped.

"Yukimura?"

Said boy smiled and waved, gesturing them over. They started walking, then jogging, then broke into a full-out run. I nervously plucked at my sleeves. They were all boys and the only way I know how trustworthy they are is through Yukimura. I eyed him warily. And I hardly know anything about him, too.

"Captain?"

"Buchou?"

He smiled again at his teammates' confused yet excited expressions.

"Are you out of the hospital?"

"How are you feeling?"

"We've been meaning to visit, but Sanada thought it would be more effective to practice longer." The serious-looking boy in the front with a black hat on nodded. Yukimura folded his arms and relaxed.

"That's good. But I wanted to meet some people," he said, gesturing at the kids and I, all standing behind him, unsure of what to do. "Everybody," Yukimura said, this is my tennis team. He walked over and gestured to each of his teammates in turn. The black-capped boy was Sanada Genichiro, Masaharu Niou was the one with crazy light-bluish hair, Yanagi Renji had closed eyes, Yagyuu Hiroshi had round glasses and purple hair, Murai Bunta sported bright purple eyes and finally...Kirihara Akaya with his brilliant green eyes and ruffled black hair introduced himself as "Rikkaidai's Junior Ace."

I swore my heart just stopped and I had to use one of Ren's scary machines to help me keep breathing.

_Kirihara Akaya...Kirihara Akaya...Krihara Akaya..._

The person who had kept coming back to haunt me was here. In my present. Right after I had told myself to forget about him...and I could've sworn I had done it. Was this a dream? Could it be that I was going delirious? Or perhaps I was having a mirage? Yes...yes...a mirage...

But the living, breathing boy standing in front of me was definitely _here_; definitely _real_.

And that made it all the more worse.

"Well, now it's your turn, everybody," Yukimura said kindly. I flinched and Kirihara looked at me. I quickly tried to hide my eyes and took slow breaths to ease my panic.

_He didn't remember me. It was alright. It was all fine. He and his green can't hurt you anymore. He can't tell it's you._

It was true; back when I knew Kirihara, I was a good two heads shorter, had lighter purple, shoulder-length hair that I always pinned back with bobby pins, and wore a green hospital dress.

_He doesn't recognize you. He doesn't remember. _

I swallowed my shivers and put a shaking arm around Katashi.

"Come on, introduce yourself first," I told in an uneven voice.

_He doesn't remember. Calm down. _

I heard Katashi introduce himself. Then it was Isao's turn. Soon, Aiko. Then Ren. All that was left was only me. Just me.

"I-I," I started, opening my mouth then snapping back closed. "I have a prior engagement," I squeaked, then walked stiffly away into the school, unsure of what the heck I was saying and where the heck I was going.

I heard Kirihara's voice behind me.

"Who's that?" he asked Yukimura who responded with worry in his voice.

"That's Jun-chan. I'm not sure why she's so upset." I tried to keep myself as composed as possible.

_Just breath. Don't look back._

"Jun-chan?" I heard Kirihara echo. Following that came to unmistakable sound of running. He was chasing me; following. I broke off into a run, slipping a few times in my linen hospital slippers. Peering back, I saw Kirihara sprinting behind me, looking concerned and confused. _Why are you running? _his eyes said.

_Well I won't tell you if you can't figure it out! _

Clambering up the steps, I frantically pulled on the heavy front door and gave a silent _hallelujah _when it opened easily. Slipping into the quiet hall, I ran as silently but quickly I could possibly muster. Alarming any late teachers or straggling students wouldn't be a wise thing to do if I wanted quiet and stealth. I heard the pattern of many footsteps.

"Where's Jun-chan?" It was Aiko's voice, worried for her older sister. I almost stopped. _Almost._

"Yeah, why'd you make her sad?" This was Isao, acting like the protecting man I always told him to be. I slowed down my pace to listen, but kept weaving through the halls, putting distance between me and Kirihara. No matter how much I loved my kids, I couldn't face him right now. Not him or anyone else.

Eventually the voices faded and I allowed myself to slow to a walk, but keep moving. Clutching the stitch at my side, I breathed heavily and strained my ears for any noise. Hobbling over to an open door, I peeked into the classroom, looking for somewhere; _anywhere _I could rest. Lucky for me, it was unoccupied and dark. However, it seemed like this was storage, because instead of chairs and seats and desks, there were boxes and boxes and...wait for it...boxes.

Sighing, I wove around the crates and settled into a lone corner at the back of the classroom. After my breath was back, I sat there longer and pondered what to do. I couldn't go back, but I couldn't stay either. As I sat wondering, I heard a single, light pattern of footsteps.

"Jun-chan?" a voice whispered. Standing, I poked my head out over the boxes and slowly walked to the door. Poking my head out, I took a look into the hallway and gasped.

"_Ren?_"


	5. Five Years Too Many

**If you'll notice, this chapter's writing will be very different than previous chapters. For one, I started this story a while ago, when I was in this creepy craze. But now I'm better. **** Then, I read over it, and I thought, **_**oh my...this is so stupid. **_**So in short, I changed my perspective on writing. For those of you who **_**enjoyed **_**my lovey-dovey-super-drama writing, well, *shrug*. Sorry. But I took on a new, more chill approach; tell me how it works! Read more in my other stories! Feel free to comment!**

I couldn't say I didn't feel absolutely awful. Ren could've had an incident, or she could've tripped and gotten hurt, or...

My eyes teared up, and I held her tiny body closer to mine. She'd fallen asleep as soon as she'd found me and explained how she'd gotten lost. It seemed in the frantic chase of a dozen people in a private school, it was easy for a little four-year-old to get lost. I stroked her red bangs out of her eyes. Looking back on my stupid Kirihara issues, it seemed like one of those giant, melodramatic dramas my mother used to like watching on day TV.

I wiped my arm with my hands and carefully roped Ren's skinny knees over my arm and shakily got up. I managed to get to the hallway and navigated myself through the school, pausing every once in a while to take a look out the window to find my way. Every once in a while I heard footsteps, but I didn't care. Let them find me; let them see me now. Eventually, I stumbled down the steps. Auntie Chie had tears in her sparkling green eyes, and she gave me a distressed look as she gently lifted Ren from my arms. Auntie Chie buckled her in, and Ren's red hair stained the window as she leaned her head against it. Aunt Karin was already in the car, dialing numbers into her cell-phone. Isao was buckled up and wheeling his car absentmindedly over her pants. When she saw me, Aunt Karin stopped the phone call with a, "Oh, never mind. Yes. Mmhmm. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."

I didn't look at her; just stepped over Ren and buckled myself down in the back and took to staring out the window away from the school. The sky was already orange and reddening against the blue. I felt decently bad about my whole episode. But right now, I was glad no one was giving me a lecture; it felt like I had run a marathon, swam two miles, and slept in a coma for ten years. Yes, I _did _feel that bad.

Soon enough, I heard the car door slide open. I turned my head and saw Yukimura, purple eyes creased hard with concern. I saw the kids behind him, and out the window, his tennis friends. And Kirihara, sweaty face and looking like I was trapped, and he was going to rip open the car to save me. Funny, how that works.

Yukimura opened his mouth to say something, but I put on my saddest face. "Ren's sleeping. Everyone's tired. I think it would be best if we just went back home." He wanted to say something; I knew it, but seemed to decide against it, helped the little ones in, and hopped in next to me, but I stared out the window. Houses down the neighborhood looked so comfy. But I was going home. Home to the hospital. Home smelled like antiseptic and blood. Home was the last place I could go to anymore for any help.

Soon enough, Doctor Kazumi arrived, her hair messy, which surprised me, but I was too tired to care. She gave me a stern look, but under that I sensed disappointment. Disappointment that I just ran off. Disappointment at how I left my kids. _Well, maybe that's just good, gentle-Jun you're looking for. _It felt like I melted ever since I'd changed my clothes; yes, strange as it sounds , I didn't feel so much lie perfect-little-babysitter-Jun-chan-who's-like-Snow-White-but-with-kids. I realized I didn't even _like _her. But I still loved my kids. They just weren't _my kids_, anymore. They had never been.

The car lurched, and with a strange finality, I found myself driving away, staring at the blank faces of Yukimura's teammates. And Kirihara. I wondered if this was how he felt, driving away across town. I hated this feeling. I gripped my skirt. _Did he hate it so much that he didn't write back? Was he ashamed of what had happened to him? _Then, almost as an afterthought, _of me? _My face blanched but I turned my face to the sun; it was as refreshing as cool water on my cheeks. So that's why he didn't return any of my letters. Obviously, the Junior Ace couldn't have the reputation of the ex-cancer-freak. I almost punched the window just to wake myself up. Ah, well. I was _fourteen_, for Pete's sake. A good (on average) sixty-five more years to find someone I liked. Still, that didn't make me feel any better about making everyone run around looking for me. Maybe it was better they didn't try to chasten me, but I kind of wished Doctor Kazumi would just turn and scream at me like mom used to. I'd feel a lot better after that. We didn't take any long detours this time through, but we stopped for dinner, and I didn't know whether to laugh or scowl. Apparently, Kawamura sushi was the regulated restaurant Doctor Kazumi wanted to take us to tonight.

In the past years, they'd gotten a bigger sign, I saw. It was much louder. I stifled a smile; Taka-san was so sweet, but I'd seen him get...excited. It was rather funny to see. The door slid open easily, and I let everyone else go ahead of me; no one commented. Rubbing my arm nervously (for some reason), I looked at how everything had changed. The furniture had been replaced. The sushi-making station had been refurbished to stretch around the next corner. Kawamura-senpai was busy in his apron and braided headband, cutting sushi and arranging them neatly onto waiting plates. Taka-san stood ready next to his father, watching closely, sometimes rearranging the sushi and fussing with ingredients. The kids all gasped and ran to watch. Kawamura-senpai looked up and smiled, and Taka-san saw me, waved, and ran out and gave me a big hug.

He smelled like raw fish and soy sauce, which was actually was pretty nice...if he were edible and wrapped up in seaweed.

"Ah, Jun-chan! I haven't seen you for so long! You look so different! Who are all these people. Is that Yukimura Seiichi?" All this was in one breath, and I couldn't even form an answer before he started a new question. Then, there it was: the question I was a little scared to answer. "What happened to you?" His brow suddenly furrowed. I had never told my former classmates where I was going when I was diagnosed. And I supposed my parents never told them anyway; why deal with something done and gone?

"I...moved." Before he could say anything else, I changed the subject. "So, the place changed! It's so much...bigger!" He smiled and his ears turned pink; apparently, this was extremely pleasing news. I punched his arm playfully. "And you're so much taller now. I'll next a stool to look at you eye-to-eye." It was true; he was a good half-head taller than me. I smiled and watched as everyone sat down. Yukimura gave me a look he didn't know I saw and sat down carefully next to Isao. "So..." I continued. "Really, how have you been?"

Taka-san ran a hand over his tan hair and shrugged. "Eh, you know. I've been going to Seigaku, the private school, and I'm actually a Regular on the boys' tennis team." He blushed, like it made him feel uncomfortable to talk about himself. "That's how I know Yukimura; he's the captain of Rikkaidai, the champions for two years running." In his voice wasn't envy or disgust; it was praise. That's why I loved Taka-san; he was so..._nice_. I wished there was another word I could've used, but compassionate, good-hearted, and honest could only be rolled into the loose term, _nice_. "So, how've you been?" His eyes swept over all the kids and lingered for a heartbeat on Yukimura. "Who are all your friends?"

"Field trip," I explained simply, like that explained everything. Before he could say anything else, I pulled him over and quickly introduced him to everyone. I could see they wondered if they should be worried, like, _will she be running away like a maniac again? _but they all politely smiled, and he returned back to arranging everything all nicely on the plates. It looked delicious, but only like art: not something I'd even _consider _eating. Plus, right now, there was a black hole where all my organs were supposed to be.

So when the giant tray was set before us, everyone dug in, spilling wasabi and soy sauce over their plates, grabbing sushi with eager fingers. Katashi almost started crying when he tried wasabi for the first time, and I fought back laughter; his face was so red. I was perfectly content with watching everyone enjoy their food. But then Taka-san came to join us, spotted my empty plate, and asked me why I wasn't eating.

His look was so disappointed, I almost took a piece just to make him feel better, but there were fresh carrots and cucumber with raw meats that were sitting in open containers since this morning. It was perfectly sanitary...but everything had bacteria, and Doctor Kazumi and I exchanged a look from across the table that said _you know why you can't have this. _Bacterial infections...interfering leukemia...risks of sickness...blah, blah, blah. She followed her cautionary glance with a sympathetic look, but with a rice roll in her cheek and soy sauce smudging her lipstick, I couldn't take her sympathy seriously.

"I have a procedure tomorrow," I explained kindly. However, the worried look changed from sadly disappointed to worried fright. "It's regulation," I told him. "As in, it's been done a lot of times before," I added quickly. I could see that sink in. Taka-san was tempted to ask what kind of surgery, but some uncomfortable answers could come up, so he stopped himself.

"Well, I-uh, I hope you'll be alright," he said, looking so much like a lost puppy, I wanted to pat his head. Then his look brightened. "When will you're surgery be done?" He asked tentatively. He wanted to bring me something, I could tell, which was so sweet, I almost felt bad for my future healing. So I tried to make it no big deal.

"Um, about a month," I said nonchalantly, which didn't really work, because he looked like he'd just swallowed a very large bug. "Or, like a year...plus recovery time to see, you know, if I'm going to die because of infection, or something," I added quickly, but my "comforting news" just made Taka-san's face whiter. I lowered my voice with sympathy, which was ironic, because _I _was the one being treated. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm not used to explaining everything. It seems like _I_'mthe one everyone's hustling over. But they forget about my friends. And family."

I didn't mean to, but I spat that word out. It burned like wasabi on my tongue. That word stung harder than a hornet.

Taka-san nodded and offered me a little smile. "Well, I hope..." he faltered, like the words slipped away, until he swallowed. "I, uh, I hope you'll get better." He nodded to himself and pointed at the kitchen. "I should, um, I should go help Dad with inventory, so..." I smiled and waved as he left. He was so strange today. Maybe he changed more in five years than I had first thought...

I shrugged. Well, a lot could change in five years.


	6. Afterthought

**Goodness. Over the course of this story, I read dozens of articles about chronic lymphocytic leukemia: the type of leukemia Juno has. I've studied doctor's records, thesis papers, treatments, and looked into about ten thousand types of injected drugs, possible life-altering side effects, and recovery. Gosh. But now I feel like quite the expert. **

** But still, there is a huge chance that my story does not or **_**cannot **_**work out in real life, so don't, like, use me as a source or something...and if you know a lot more about this stuff than I do, please just tell me about things I've gotten wrong. Thanks: I wanted this to be as real as possible. And I am NOT trying to use cancer as some big dramatic thing to make my story better, okay? I'm alerting people of a REAL-LIFE issue. Juno's lucky to have been diagnosed so quickly. **

**Please check out my other stories and feel free to comment! **

They had me down for a five-day treatment of chemotherapy and a 24-day grace period of six cycles to see if I'd entered remission. In other terms, I get to have thirty needles jammed into my arm and spend a little under five months confined to small quarters to see if I'd get to have even _more _needles pushed into my body. Yay.

It was a strange feeling: finally being treated. I wanted to stay. I really wanted to stay. There had never been anywhere else I wanted to live. Leukemia hadn't been this giant cloud covering me, like people sometime think it is. It was just..._there_. Like a distant cousin who never calls anymore. Some people think I can feel the cancer cells slowly killing my body, but I _can't_. Well, you know, sometimes I notice how I feel sick really often and of course, the monthly blood tests and diets and giant bible of precautionary actions...but really, I hardly even noticed my disease. It was, I guess, something really slow, you know? I guess that's what "chronic" means. Of course, I noticed _some _things. I started feeling a little worse and getting a number of dizzy spells every time I stood up. My dress got baggier. I was on the smaller side of the scale, but I hadn't thought too much about it all.

That night, I lay in my bed until midnight. They had fed me packaged apple sauce, steamed vegetables, and distilled water the second I got back, and I was rushed into my room the second I finished. Doctor Kazumi said she was looking forward to my recovery, and the kids hung on my hands until I was pulled away with two nurses to escort me back to my room, like a prisoner of war. It all felt too strange. I knew in a point of view, my life was just starting again. I'd meet kids my age. I'd have actual friends who I could talk to about actual things. But after I left, another part of me was going to die. I'd become a girl without a family; emotionally, I mean. And maybe I'd grown weird in my time here. Heck, I didn't even know how people my age were supposed to act. I'd had a tutor for five years here...was that awkward? Would I be in a classroom? Was I _not _supposed to shout out answers like Mr. Frost always encouraged me to? Was I _not _supposed to do things like walk around the classroom while he taught? Were these things...not _normal? _

I knew I should've slept, but I felt too worried. Thirty injections didn't even compare to what would happen to me after I was cured...

Then, the worst thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the room in white and black shadows. It lasted for a few seconds where nothing but that one thought filled everything around me: what if I _wasn't _healed? What if I'd have to stay? What if nothing worked?

_What if..._

I wasn't even sure if I fell asleep. Either that or I was just laying in bed, thinking about something from the darkest thoughts that could've been me imagining or just a realistic nightmare. When a nurse knocked, I jolted up, slipped from my nightdress into my green dress before she even asked to come in.

I was rather disappointed when my doctor for the procedure wasn't Doctor Kazumi. The woman waiting in the room the next day was a middle-aged lady in a white coat wearing a white hat on a long braid of crimson. She was nice enough and sat me down in a comfy chair. Two other nurses hustled around the room as she shuffled around, gathering instruments, reading labels, and cleaning off supplies. I turned my head and saw a stand where three bags dangled: one empty, one full of a clear liquid, and another of blood. They hung like mobiles over my squeaky-clean crib.

"I'm Doctor Heather," the lady said, turning her head as she washed her hands. "And these are Nurses Wysocki and Suzuki." The ladies smiled politely. Doctor Heather had loosely creased brown eyes that formed an illusion that she was always being sympathetic. "Now, today we'll be doing the first of five this week." Doctor Heather pulled out a new set of gloves from the holder. She looked up at me. "We're in a private room, but later, if you feel comfortable enough, we'll be moving you in with the common room with the other patients." I blinked. Was I getting the "special treatment" because I was a kid or something?

"So first we'll just get your blood pressure," Nurse Suzuki said, coming over to wrap the thing around my arm; she walked me through the whole process I'd go through during a physical. I was getting increasingly nervous...all this was like a tiny crescendo leading up to the big event. Afterwards, Doctor Heather asked me if I had any questions, and when I said _no_, she got right down to it.

"Now," she told me, "it's just an injection into your arm, kind of like your blood tests, but this is one of many and it'll last a little longer. I hope you brought a book." I waved _Life of Pi _in my lap and one of the nurses smiled. I didn't know whether to be frightened or happy that she was telling me so much. From the little silver tray on the counter, Nurse Wysocki (I think; they looked a lot alike) took a moist wipe of alcohol and scrubbed a spot on my right arm, near my elbow, while Nurse Suzuki carted over the little stand of swinging fluids. Only when Doctor Heather picked up the syringe was when I looked away.

"Now, you just breathe in..."

I don't think she even cared I wasn't breathing at all, but she pushed in the needle and I sunk deep into the chair, like I was trying to get away. I slackened my arm: an old trick that lessened the pain, but I could've sworn the needle pushed through my bone and right through the other side of my thin arm. I started to panic...was my arm so skinny that she misjudged? Something hot bloomed under my skin, but I didn't dare look; if I looked, I knew I'd freak out. She was right; this was no worse than my monthly blood tests, but it felt strange to know that every time I moved my arm, the plastic tube running along my skirt shook.

One of the nurses wrapped up the needle to stay, and I caught a glimpse of a syringe, which made my stomach drop. Someone put a glass of water on the little table next to the chair and ordered me to drink. I drank. To take my temperature, someone told me to open my mouth. I opened my mouth. When they wanted me to, I rolled up my other sleeve and felt them take my blood pressure. Someone asked me if I wanted to read. I opened my book and stared monotonously at the words.

By the time I finished the page, I was already feeling nauseas. It might've been the drug, but the book was pretty nasty, too. _Who knew hyenas were so disgusting?_ I scowled and swallowed hard. I gratefully drank the water put out for me and stared at the nurses hustling around the room for a while. It seemed like they always had something to do.

I felt pale and spent by the time it ended. I couldn't even think to freak out when I directly watched the needle jerk out of my arm. I downed another glass of water with a pill that did something-or-another. Doctor Heather was telling me something, I could tell: something about food, but I swallowed the thought down. If someone said _I want a churro_, I'd throw up.

One of the nurses was nice enough to wheel me back to my room, which I stood up to and tried to protest against; everyone else had to take care of themselves, but she just caught my quivering knees and wheeled me back quietly, laying me nicely in bed, and before I passed out, I barely remember wishing I could stay.

I wasn't sure when I woke up, but the first thing I did was run into the bathroom on wobbly legs. Describing that would be strange and unnecessary. But I think I fell asleep again in there.

When I emerged, more-or-less refreshed but still feeling like a little girl who didn't have a very good nap, I found a tray of food waiting on the counter with a note written neatly in Doctor Kazumi's writing.

Apparently, I was allowed to go visit the kids during dinner (it was already dinner?) with very specific instructions: eat quickly and don't share. Oh, and for good measure, they threw in a little paper wrist bracelet printed with a tiny calendar reminding me of my chemo schedule and little notes saying things like, _keep going! _and _almost there!_ I gave it a dubious smile and just for good measure, checked today's date. I had the chemotherapy injection scheduled in the morning, along with a blood test at six. This was so silly. But I put it on anyway, tied up my hair into a ponytail, slipped a sweater over my dress, and left to find everybody.

Apparently, bacteria would grow onto the surface of the food, go into my body, and beat-up my already beat-up cells. And maybe, if I was lucky, I'd get an _infection _and have to treat _that, _too. Perhaps it was due to these thoughts or leftover effects of the chemo-shot, but by the time I left my room, I was feeling dizzy. To stop my vertigo, I stared at my food. The tray was a special metal platter of vacuum-sealed dishes: steamed carrots and green beans, a glop of rice, a handful of dry crackers, and a glass of bottled water. Not even a _bottle _of water. A plastic cup sealed up. I sniffed at the food as I slowly and carefully carried the cold tray down the hall to the recreation room: the place where we always ate lunch. I pushed open the door to the familiar room. It used to be a conference room, but after this wing had into a children's wing, the idea of "a quiet place to discuss affairs" didn't really make sense. So it was our cafeteria.

I was met by giggles and chatter before I pushed open the wooden door. I was flocked by all the kids turning their heads, dropping their things, and screaming as one: "Jun-chan!" I could barely take in the one familiar long table stretched from the door to the windows on the other side. Wrappers and plastic wrapping were scattered around the table. I barely dropped the tray on the table when the tiny bodies flooded around me and hugged my knees, pulled at my hands, and reached up to touch my arms.

I almost stumbled but still patted their heads in turn and smiled. "Hi, everybody." Then I noticed a missing presence and frowned. "Where's big brother?"

Ren's face turned somber. "His friends came," she said quietly, like she was scared at how I might react. "The scary one and the one..." she hesitated before continuing. "...and the one with the green eyes." I nodded and ruffled her red hair affectionately but absentmindedly. I sat down before I could collapse on my wobbly legs. I kind of felt like I should go and apologize...then I almost slapped myself. _There was nothing to be sorry about. _I scowled and shook my head like maybe that would clear things up a little bit, but it just made me dizzier. I mentally slapped myself and ended up in a slap-fest with myself. Was this one of the side effects Doctor Heather had mentioned? _Well,_ I thought bitterly, _I _do _feel pretty nauseous. _

**Comments to Comments**

**TO: kikumarucat**

**So what actually happened to her parents? Hope you explain it more soon! Poor Tachibana, I don't even know what's gonna happen to him. Maybe they'll meet Akaya and Juno will run away again... With Tachibana's wheelchair still with her. :P I'm sure that won't happen though. That would be funny, but won't make sense as Juno has already figured out she did not do the right thing. Will you ever have a Kirihara POV, or will this be Juno's POV the whole story through? Good luck with your story**

**_Thanks for the suggestions. _****_J_****_ I'm probably just going to have Juno's point of view; I've tried writing in a guy's point of view...it doesn't work out very well._**

**TO: Clocked002**

**Actually you don't have to input more members in the story because it could get hectic and its really fine as it is but that's just me talking. Also, I just wanted to point (idk maybe im wrong but...) when one does take****chemotherapy****its not a painful stab of a needle that quick, its not like a shot. It actually takes a couple of hours for the medicine to get inside your body its pretyy much like an ivy drip. They stab the needle into you and wait for hours for the medicine to be fully administrated into your body. Along the way sometimes there are complications :/ because the medicine might not match your body and your body will have bad reactions. For example, my mother had a hard time breathing and they stopped a while before getting back into it. Also there are usually nurses overlooking the kemo to make sure nothing happens. And by the time all the medicine is in your system and your free to leave you get super overly exhausted and nauseous. Idk maybe others have experienced different but that's what i saw, and it seems like that for others as well. I hope this information helps. (Im not offended or anything like it might seem :P) I just hope that this info will help you write out your story. and yah.. going through chemo is actually alot harder then it seems :/ anyways, can't wait for he next chapter :D hope this info was meaningful. Use it to your advantage and write a bada** story make me proud XD**

_**Woah. I was wrong. Sorry. They don't usually describe the extent of a "shot" very well in the book I've been reading...but thank you! That helped a lot! I also watched this (pretty interesting, actually) video guide that talked about the whole process and time and stuff...but yeah! Thanks for the advice! **_


	7. Looking for Anything

**My computer broke. I spider-webbed my LCD screen because I tripped on the carpet. LUCKILY all my stuff wasn't totally wiped out! Hoorah! **

Grudgingly, I picked up the tray and made my way to Yukimura's room, all the while discussing my battle plan. It was supposed to be an apology: a _peaceful _notion, but I felt like this was a pressure bomb I couldn't lift my foot from without being blown to Jun-chan-bits. I was feeling much better: _physically_, of course, but I think I would mind puke if this wasn't over soon. It would take careful cunning and possibly some form of trench warfare to safely get in and out of there without attracting too many drama-lovers.

After coming up with nothing and finding myself in the hall to Yukimura's room, I sighed in defeat. The easiest thing to do was just go out and say it...but then, I'd have to say _why _I even ran off, and then _he'd_ have to apologize, and then we'd be in this big, awkward drama scene with Yukimura and the creepy one Ren was talking about as the real-life audience. I nearly turned around right then until I was saved by a call from the room a few doors from where I had just entered.

I sagged in relief. This was a good deed: helping someone who needed help. _More like a good _excuse_, _sang out another part of my mind, but I swatted it away like a pesky fly.

My salvation (a-HEM distraction. SHUT UP) came in a peculiar form. I hadn't remembered these halls being occupied since, well, since Kirihara. But now there was another patient? Again, as I was walking towards the door, another call rang out from the same room.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

I poked my head in. A boy with black hair was sitting on the bed. He had sharp black eyes that flashed up to look at me. I froze; his look was freaky serious. But then, he sighed. "Ah, I thought I was the only one in this whole hospital," he smiled, looking a lot less like an eagle. "I'm Tachibana Kippei."

"Juno." I cracked a smile. "Pleasure."

I was still trying to decide what to think of the stranger when he spoke up again. "Do you mind doing me a favor? They were supposed to come get me for physical therapy a half hour ago," he told me, pointing at his legs under the covers.

"Of course," I said nicely, striding out of the door. The office was just upstairs. They usually kept perfect records and precise appointments. What did they expect: him to just magically walk on his injured legs up an elevator, through three waiting rooms, and down a few hallways?

Irritating, that was, waiting for someone who was supposed to be responsible. With a pang, I remembered my mother during summer vacation: the summer they promised to visit me before leaving for Germany. I had waited for three hours next to the window, sobbing my eyes out, certain they had gotten into an accident and died. Later, I'd received a message relaying to me that they couldn't miss their flight and barely made it and couldn't use their phones until they landed. I had sobbed into the phone crying _mommy. _She had seemed startled and uncomfortable.

So I didn't think it was fair this guy had to be waiting for someone who said they'd come. I stopped and tapped my foot with irritation against the hallway tiling. Then, I turned on my heel back through the door and opened the closet where I knew there'd be...

Ah, here it was. Perfect.

Tachibana craned his neck from where he sat to see what I was doing. "With all due respect, Juno-chan, but erm...what are you doing?" I almost laughed at how uncomfortable, polite, and confused his voice was, but just wheeled out what I wanted and shut the closet.

"Might as well go and complain," I told him happily. "Get ready, Tachibana-kun." I felt my eyes flash like warning lights. "No one knows this hospital better than I do. We're going on an adventure."

Wheelchairs weren't particularly hard to use, if, of course, you had someone to push you. But Tachibana didn't really have the same idea I did. Our first issue came when he was supposed to get in. I was pretty sure I didn't have the physical strength to lift this guy. But luckily, he alerted me that as long as he didn't put any unnecessary weight against his injured knee, he'd be fine. I had wheeled the chair over to the bed, tilting a tiny bit and kicked up the foot pedals. I was busy locking the first wheel when Tachibana decided to get in.

I suppose it was _partially _my fault. Just a piece of advice: when you give directions like, _hey, you can get in, just wait a second, _you should really rephrase it as: _hey, just wait a second until I tell you so you can get in and my fingers won't get crushed because I'm really flimsy and you're a lot heavier than you look. _

I stood in a corner in a gloom moodily nursed my throbbing fingers as Tachibana wheeled happily around the room, pausing every once in a while to ask how I was faring. I'd say fine, and he'd continue on his little adventure.

When I was feeling a little better, I carefully approached the chair, put my hands on the handles, told him not to touch anything, and wheeled us out the door. Tachibana was surprisingly quiet. No one paid us much attention, and I was practically skipping. This was great, wasn't it? Nothing like a nice trip to the physical therapist to bring out the no-apology-to-Kirihara-ness of a nice day.

"So, Tachibana-kun where do you go to school?" I asked cheerily, searching for conversation. I was in such a good mood that I almost started skipping, but that was rather difficult to do while pushing a wheelchair.

"Fudomine Middle School," he told me, then added, "what about you?"

Even that question couldn't bring me down right now. Usually, I would've become moody that I was excluded from the majority of teenagers in public school, but soon, I knew, I'd be part of that. "I'm homeschooled," I said happily. It _was _true.

As we waited for the elevator, I reached out to push the up button when Tachibana gasped and took my hand.

_"What?"_ I asked in alarm, my run-over hand starting to throb at the grab. The sight that greeted me almost made me faint.

It had been a tiny little running-over-with-a-wheelchair. No biggie. But on my hand, right in the middle of her first two fingers, were already twin bruises, blue and ugly. _Was this something Doctor Heather had mentioned when I was exhausted and only half-listening?_ I remembered something slightly about easy bleeding...but was _this_ natural?

"No issue," I said quickly, snatching back my hand and pressing the elevator button with my other hand. _I'll have to be more careful or I'll end up a grape by the end of this week, _I warned myself. This was a little bit scary. I absentmindedly rubbed a sore spot on my arm and looked there too.

Another bruise! It was a little circle of blue where the IV needle had come out. Inwardly I groaned. _I'd be a paintbrush pallet by the time I finished chemo,_ I thought miserably. _Though it was an insane artist: only using blue. _

After an awkward eternity of silence, the elevator stopped, and the doors shuddered open. Inside were a few people who cleared space for Tachibana and me. Someone hit the floor four button, but I didn't plan on moving an inch anyway. I knew these people. They looked familiar. I think they were on Yukimura's tennis team that one time we visited...

I gulped.

_Well, this was awkward._

"Tachibana Kippei."

Someone behind me said it, and I carefully wheeled said boy around to respond. The guy who spoke was the one I recognized with silver hair and a creepy look on his face like he was plotting someone's funeral.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said, then his eyes flickered onto me. "And you're the one causing so much trouble."

I involuntarily shrunk back but then changed my mind and stood tall instead. Sure, he was a good deal taller than me. Sure, he hadn't been trapped inside for five years and hadn't been able to get a lot of physical movement let alone exercise...but honestly, we were in a _hospital_, for Pete's sake. And plus, even though I hated it, I _was _a pale, quivering little patient who could be blown down with one huff. He'd be a villain if he picked on me. I mean, come on. I get a cold when I stand under a ceiling fan.

I stood tall in my five feet three inches and looked straight in his eyes. "Yeah, so?"

I immediately regretted sounding so cutting. But then I started regretting my regret. _Go, Jun! _a part of my mind cheered. _You're so stupid! _another part sang out. The guy raised an eyebrow like he couldn't believe I was being so threatening, but then he just laughed. Another dude with purple hair and shiny glasses stepped up.

"Please excuse his seemingly demeaning behavior," the guy told me. I admit I was slightly taken aback. I only saved words like that for classroom essays, not normal speech. And even though his words were kind, he said them with a tone that said he was being strictly polite, nothing less, nothing more. "You see," he continued with that same perfectly even voice, "Kirihara has been a little...upset, and he explained to us basically about how you two met and...were friends."

I couldn't help but feel a little bit hurt. _He told them about Helio? We were still friends? _Before I could respond, the elevator finally stopped. I hadn't noticed but it had taken a while. _What the heck? Why's everything running so irritatingly slow today? _

I walked backwards, pulling Tachibana's wheelchair with me out the door. "Well, thank you all for the..." I was at loss. _Conversation? Story exchange? Empty words that just materialized in the air and was sucked into our brains? _But the doors closed before I could say anything else, and the last things I saw were that creepy guy's creepy smile and some guy in the corner writing tentatively into a little notebook, like he was a court reporter documenting our little episode to review it all again later.


	8. The Missing Link

**Losing inspiration...Jun-chan'll be back in the summer, all: at full force, I promise! I'll update when I can, but ditto to my other stories (for the time being!) and curse finals!**

The secretary fumbled with his papers, and I tried not to be too exasperated. We'd made it (finally) to the therapy office where Tachibana was supposed to have an appointment an hour ago just for the man to accidently misplace the schedule sheet.

"Ah, he-here it is," he stuttered, straightening his thin glasses and patting down his short bleach white hair. I mean, honestly. This guy looked even feebler than _me_. I bet he got pneumonia every time he stood in front of an AC. "R-right this way, Ta-tachibana-kun," he said, taking the wheelchair from me and pushing with difficulty down the office hall.

"Thank you for your help, Jun-chan!" Tachibana called, waving until disappearing around the corner. I waved and then let my arm drop. Well, that was fun. _Quite the adventurer now, hmm? _my mind teased. _Now do we want to go apologize? _

Oh right. _Apologize. _Totally forgot (not really. SHUT UP) about doing that. I desperately checked the clock on the wall and a big smile stretched over my face. Oh, darn. 5:45 already? Only fifteen minutes until my tests...too bad.

No time to apologize.

But fifteen minutes was plenty, and I couldn't go back to my room: they were fixing the lights over the main corridor, so I'd have to pass through Yukimura's wing where I would probably see Kirihara. I pondered what I could do for a while until smiling, turning on my heel and striding happily out of the office.

Doctor Heather's office was just a hall down from the retirement care unit, and it would be so much more convenient to just duck in for a short visit and then go straight to get my blood tested. I smiled at the thought and in the next few minutes, I had ducked downstairs into the hospital gift shop, bought a bag of potato chips, and tucked it into my sweater pocket.

With this offering, I hoped Helio would be happy to see me coming.

He was an old family friend. My mom's brother's something-or-another best friend's dad. When I first came, Mom had taken me to see him, thinking maybe having a friend here might cheer me up. It didn't matter if he was toothless, bald, bedridden, or 95 years old. Mom hadn't really liked Helio; she said he was just a clueless old man. Either that or his gruff attitude made me like him even _more_.

Helio was the kind of guy who'd push and shove his way to the bathroom without the assistance of any nurses or watch television quietly when he was supposed to be sleeping. I liked him. He liked potato chips.

I used to like taking old medical records into his room and sit on the carpet to read while he grumbled about the mushy, disgusting food they'd fed him for breakfast, or how badly his favorite player was losing. Of course, he usually had a different favorite player every day. Either due to his standards or Alzheimer's, I'll never really know.

Kirihara had run into him quite accidently, actually, while he was escaping from (what I was later told by a red-faced Kirihara) a blood test shot. I'd found him with Helio, talking sports while watching television. I'd nearly dropped the small bundle of flowers I'd been holding. People didn't usually get along well with him...he drove them away with complaints and his grumpy attitude, so who was this boy, talking with him casually, not angry at all?

He'd been Kirihara Akaya, the long-timer who was apparently my neighbor. He'd been the one to introduce me to the kids. He'd been the one who taught me how to navigate myself safely around this labyrinth of a hospital. He'd been the one who'd shown me the roof and his dozens of hiding places, got easily angry whenever I told him he was being rude, smuggled me extra food when I was sick, taught me how to play video games, and...left and never came back.

I felt a pained expression stretch my face, but I supposed it was my arm; it was beginning to hurt again. I absentmindedly rubbed my bruised fingers to distract me from the little blue button on my arm as I blankly listened to the noises of TV and the steady crinkling of potato chips. They had let me in rather easily, fussed about how skinny I had gotten, and I had taken my regular perch in the guest chair next to Helio's bed after my polite insisting.

He was sat up today, pockmarked bald head lying angrily on the pillow. Yes, I am aware I noted that his head lay _angrily_. Helio can do _anything _angrily. He scowled at me when I came in like a cat I had forgotten to feed, but when I had offered him the chips, he'd grumbled and took them from me. The nurses only allowed him chips every so often because they were crap for him (and anyone else, really). Plus, Helio didn't have any teeth. But he always seemed perfectly content to just suck on them until they melted down. They were my offering and in return, he allowed me to join him in his watching of football.

I couldn't understand that sport to save my life. There'd be a guy. And then everyone else would run around him to the cheering of fans, looking like dancers composing a mash-up of jitterbug, hip-hop, and a rather aggressive waltz. I had learned to keep my mouth shut when I watched TV with Helio; he didn't seem to appreciate my thousands of questions and lack of enthusiasm.

_Oh. Look. That guy has the ball. Now he threw it to some guy, but another guy hit it away and everyone on one side stood up–hey look. That one guy in the front row has a fake afro on. I wonder if it's itch–oh, no. It's real. Oh, okay. Now they're zooming in on that rude guy who smacked the ball like a potato. _

_Hey, look. Outside there's a birdie._

The game finished and all that was on now was news. Helio didn't look too happy about that, but for some reason, kept it on the same channel. I checked the clock, and a smile stretched over along with the tiniest bit of guilt...but really! Helio's visit had been perfect to fill in until my appointment.

"How's Kirihara?"

I stopped everything: blinking, breathing, pumping blood. "Fine," I heard myself squeak. "You know, he has a life and all now, and..."

I quickly said goodbye which was responded with a grunt, stuffed any evidence of the chips and our previous conversation into the trash can, and left to Doctor Heather's office. I walked swiftly and stiffly. _He remembered Kirihara? Why did he say that? Did he really care that much to remember? Why had I even left?_

_Why did I even still care? _

The secretary at the front desk looked a little more solid than the one in the physical therapy room, which was quite comforting. She talked into a phone and waved for me to wait, and I obliged. I picked up a magazine and leafed through it, then, unable to read the words, propped up my arm against the chair and through the see-through window, watched people pass by.

There was a lady with a baby strapped to her chest, a man coughing into his fist, a little girl clutching the hand of an old lady, a man with a flowery shirt and shorts on who probably just stepped out of a Hawaiian vacation catalogue, and a strict-looking lady wearing a gray skirt-suit and lugging the arm of a pale little boy who could've been the son of the secretary who escorted Tachibana. She reminded me of someone a long time ago dragging a little girl behind her, wearing her favorite dress: green with a pretty white sash wrapped around the middle and across her shoulders, tying in the back like a birthday present. She still had chocolate stains smeared around her mouth from her ice cream she'd had just before when her life hadn't been shattered and when everything seemed _so amazing _like maybe Mom would _always _be this nice to me...

"Excuse me, Miss?"

I gave a giant start and ripped my head up from where I hadn't noticed I'd been dropping it. It was one of the nurses (was this Nurse Suzuki or Wysocki?), her eyes watching me like bright blue lamps.

"Sorry," I blinked. She smiled and guided me down the corridor to the private room where we'd been in before, the shiny mobile still hanging in there, tubing trailing down to something I didn't want to notice, the little silver cart holding little silver instruments, and Doctor Heather and the other nurse. I had a drastic feeling of _déjà vu_; this scene was exactly the same as when I came in yesterday...I mean, this morning. I shook my head like maybe that would dislodge some of the mugginess in my brain. Then I noticed everything was only almost the same...because of the Life of Pi book lying innocently on the arm of the chair.

The corner of my mouth twitched up.

**As always, please, please, please comment! I always enjoy learning new things about how I can improve! :) **


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